Page 11 of A Rogue to Forget

His father’s expression was bright when looked to Henry. “I dare say, this entire episode, as disagreeable as it is, does intrigue me. However, as you found the dead man, I think it is a good idea that you remove yourself from anything to do with it. I will look into things.”

“Why?” his mother asked, shaking her head. “This has nothing to do with our family. There is no reason for us to intervene. If I were one of the investigators, I would find it strange.”

“A mystery, dear, is something that has always intrigued me. There is nothing more interesting than finding out why certain things happen.”

“This is a murder, William, not a game,” Lady Campbell placed both hands on her hips. “I forbid any further engagement by either of you.”

After a lingering murderous expression aimed at them, she turned and walked out.

“I will go and speak to the lass tomorrow,” his father said with an expression of glee. “There must be something she knows that she’s not said.”

“Father, she’s been through enough,” Henry protested, once again feeling protective of Hannah. The thought of her being interrogated by his curious father made him cringe. “Mother is right, we should leave things be.”

“Enjoy your carriage ride, son. One thing your mother is correct about is that you must begin the courting process. You should marry.”

“Once I accomplish what I have planned and have a bank account to be proud of, I will then and only then consider marrying.”

*

“Is it notthe perfect day?” Una, who clung to his arm, said the following day as they rode in a park commonly frequented for carriage rides. The canopy of trees and well-tended pathways invited the people of Glasgow to either ride the perimeter or walk on the pathways and enjoy the foliage and shade nature provided.

He studied the woman who sat across from him, Una’s companion, a rather rotund woman who seemed to be constantly out of breath. The woman appeared or acted as if she was falling asleep.

From the corner of his eye, he looked to Una. “It certainly is.”

Una Stewart was the middle daughter of Lord and Lady Reginal Stewart, one of four Stewart families in Glasgow. Despite the fact her father offered a generous dowry, Una had not married after her debut into society.

He would describe her as interesting in looks. Her face was triangular with a pointed chin and pursed lips. She had dark hair that was coifed into a rather complicated style. Despite attempting to smile while speaking, her expression seemed rather pinched.

With long bony fingers, she patted his leg, sending shivers up his spine. “Why were you not at dinner last night? Your mother was put out.”

“I apologized profusely to my mother. Matters beyond my control kept me away until late.”

There was something in her gaze, as if she tried to figure out if he told the truth, which annoyed him. Henry looked away to a passing carriage, and upon recognizing the couple, nodded in greeting.

Immediately, Una whirled to see who it was. “Was that the MacKinnons?”

“Yes,” Henry replied. “Tell me, what do you spend your time doing, Una?”

At the question, Una brightened. “I am terribly busy with many things. Mother and I are patrons of the arts and theatre, and I work tirelessly to raise money for causes near and dear to my heart.”

“Such as?” Henry was aware that her family often hosted formal events that were touted as fundraisers for the poor. No one had ever seen them out serving the poor, nor did they ever travel outside the circle of wealthy estates.”

“The poor, of course,” she replied, waving her hand. “Feeding them, clothing, things like that.”

“Very admirable,” he replied, to which she preened.

“Thank you.”

“Do you go out personally to ensure the funds are spent well?”

“Of course not,” she all but snapped. “We send people to do that. Let us speak of something brighter,” she continued. “Your mother very graciously invited my family to the party next Saturday. I am very curious to know what you plan to wear. I would love to have you as an escort and wear a dress that is complementary.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot escort you as Mother expects me to help host.” He had to clear his throat at her presumptuous request. “Of course, I will be in attendance and look forward to seeing you there.”

At being turned down, Una let out a sharp breath, then turned away and pretended to study the passing foliage.

“Who is she?”